


The One Where Wanda is Clint's Weakness

by JinxQuickfoot



Series: Weaknesses [5]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Black Widow - Freeform, Brief mentions of childhood abuse, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Hawkeye - Freeform, Hostage Situations, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, Kidnapped Clint Barton, Kidnapping, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Natasha Romanov, Rescue, Scarlet Witch - Freeform, Team as Family, Trick Shot - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23311447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxQuickfoot/pseuds/JinxQuickfoot
Summary: It was a crude cartoon of an old circus tent, with the words “Carson Carnival of Travelling Wonder” in a balloon-like font splashed across it.“Turn it over, Clint.”On the back were the words: Tonight. Come alone, or the witch dies.----------------------------------------------------------------------------Clint's past catches up to him, but family is more than blood.
Relationships: Barney Barton & Clint Barton, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton/Laura Barton
Series: Weaknesses [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672462
Comments: 10
Kudos: 117
Collections: Weaknesses





	The One Where Wanda is Clint's Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5. They're getting longer apparently. 
> 
> [Come say hi on Tumblr - I take requests!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jinxquickfoot)
> 
> You can check out my other Clint & Wanda fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26987911/chapters/65876245)

Clint Barton was experiencing a rare feeling of content. He was sitting in his favourite armchair on the farmhouse’s porch, baby Nate cradled in his lap, and a freshly brewed cup of coffee on hand. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, staining the sky a deep red. What was that old saying?

_Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning_.

Nate stirred awake, yawned, then snuggled back into the blanket.

“You want ten more minutes, bud?” Clint took a sip of his coffee as he took in the spectacular skyline. “Yeah, me too.”

He squinted at a dash of movement on the horizon, then relaxed when he recognised the familiar blue pickup truck making its way across the fields. Clint grinned as it trundled towards the farmhouse. No matter how many times she’d visit, Clint would never stop enjoying the sight of Agent Natasha Romanoff dressed in plaid and rubber boots, as comfortable in that farm truck as if she was a born and raised country girl.

That grin faded when he saw the serious expression on Natasha’s face as she made her way to the porch.

“Please don’t tell me the world’s ending. Again,” Clint groaned. “Because if it is, I’m going to need more coffee.”

“Clint,” Natasha said softly. “It’s Wanda.”

***

“Let me see her.”

Clint barely acknowledged his teammates as he pushed past them to the frail form in the hospital bed. He sat beside the young woman, taking her hand in his. It was ice cold.

Wanda’s skin was the colour of snow, her eyelids fluttering as though she were dreaming. Someone - Natasha, he guessed - had taken the time and care to remove the sleeping girl’s heavy eye makeup. She looked so much younger without it.

“How long?” he got out.

He hardly registered the comforting hand on his shoulder as Steve spoke. “Fourteen hours.”

“I came as soon as I could,” Natasha added, her voice gentle.

Clint tore his eyes away to look at his team. Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Vision were all watching him with trepidation. Vision looked the most downcast, his eyes on Wanda’s lifeless form.

“What happened?” Clint asked.

“That’s what we’re trying to find out.” Clint’s head snapped around to Helen Cho, who had just entered the medical bay with a tablet in hand. She surveyed the somber Avengers, eyes ending on Steve. “Although I would find Dr Banner’s input most helpful.”

Steve shook his head, and Cho sighed. “What’s wrong with her?” Clint demanded.

Cho shot him a look, but when she spoke her tone remained professional. “A venom of some kind. It’s put her body into stasis, cutting her off from her powers.”

“How far away are you from an antidote?”

“We’re working as hard as we can.”

“So not close at all?”

“Clint,” Steve admonished.

Clint slapped Steve’s hand off his shoulder. “Where’s Rhodes? Isn’t he with you lot now?”

“He’s calling Stark,” Sam replied.

“Stark doesn’t come anywhere near my patient,” Cho interjected. “If I still had my regenerative cradle, this might be easier.”

The hand on Clint’s shoulder was back, and the only reason Clint didn’t break the wrist it was attached to was because it was Natasha’s.

“Clint. We need to talk. Privately.”

Clint looked back at Wanda, not wanting to leave her side. 

“We will not leave her while she is vulnerable, Agent Barton,” Vision said softly. “I promise.”

Looking from Vision to Natasha, Clint buried his head in his hands, letting himself feel the pain of seeing his… _friend_ seemed too casual. Clint knew Steve and the others had Wanda’s back on the battlefield, that she had found companionship in Vision, but Clint had taken Wanda under his wing in a different way. He was the one she called in the middle of the night when she had nightmares about Sokovia or couldn’t sleep for crying over the hole Pietro had left in her life. He had had her out to the farm whenever she could get away from her Avenger duties. Laura and the kids had immediately taken to her, and her to them. Lila had even taken to wearing thick eyeliner and dark nail polish as her newest phase, her Scarlet Witch poster the largest of the Avenger posters that lined her walls. 

_Five more seconds, Barton. Then it’s time to get to work. Three…two…one…_

Clint lifted his head out of his hands and nodded at Natasha.

She led him out of the medical bay into an empty room. After she had shut the door and tripled checked that no one could be listening in, she pressed a crumpled flyer into Clint’s hands.

“What’s this?” Clint unfolded the scrap of paper, revealing…

_No._

It was a crude cartoon of an old circus tent, with the words “Carson Carnival of Travelling Wonder” in a balloon-like fond splashed across it.

“Turn it over, Clint.”

On the back were the words: _Tonight. Come alone, or the witch dies._

Clint’s hands were shaking as he read the words scrawled in all too familiar handwriting. “Why didn’t you give this to me on the flight over here?”

“Because I knew you’d go running after him, Clint. And I wanted to give Cho a chance first. I wanted to remind you that you have a team here that has your back, no matter what.”

“No.” Clint saw Natasha about to protest and stopped her in her tracks. “This isn’t…this doesn’t concern them. It’s a family matter.”

“We are your family, Clint.” A sad smile crossed her lips. “A pretty weird one, but family nonetheless.”

“That’s why I can’t drag them into this. I can handle it alone.”

“The point I’m making is that you don’t have to.”

Clint tapped the flyer. “He said to come alone.”

“I know, but Stark has been working on some stealth software for the team. It’s actually pretty impressive. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“No.” Clint searched for words and didn’t find them. He settled for, “I don’t want to risk Wanda’s safety.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed,” Natasha pressed him. God, the woman knew him far too well. “We all have baggage. I don’t think well-adjusted people decide to put on costumes and fight crime.”

“Without trying to sound like a person in a costume fighting crime…I need to do this alone.” He winced. “Did that sound as cliche as it felt?”

Natasha sighed. “At least let me come. He won’t even know I’m there.”

“You don’t know him.”

“But you know me. Stark might even have a prototype of that stealth software somewhere.”

Clint weighed her words. “How far away is Stark?”

“Rhodey just got in contact with him. He’s not even on the continent.” 

Clint grimaced. “I don’t suppose he left any other prototypes? Ones geared towards, I don’t know, archery?”

***

It had been decades, but the smell of the circus hint Clint like it was yesterday. Sweat and animal dung and stale popcorn clawed his nostrils as he made his way towards the red and white tent towering above the rest of the circus.

It wasn’t the Carson’s Carnival - that had shut down years ago - but a circus taking place in the very spot that he had first joined Carson’s was too much of a coincidence. Clint made his way silently through the ancient arcade games and rickety rides. If his mind wasn’t full of worry for Wanda, he would have a dozen horror movie and Pennywise quips ready by now.

He and Nat hadn’t told the team they were going - they had just left. He was sure they’d cop that with Cap later, although he had seen Natasha send off a quick text as their… _borrowed_ quinjet touched down in Iowa.

Clint reached the big top. The arrow he’d taken from Tony’s lab was taut in his bowstring as he paused at the tent’s entrance. Even his keen eyes couldn’t pierce the darkness within. As he was debating sneaking in versus risking a flashlight, there was a resounding _click_ from within the big top, as a spotlight appeared in the very center of the ring.

“Great,” Clint muttered. “That’s totally not a trap.”

Wanda’s still, pale face flashed in his memories, and he sighed. 

“Good job, Barton,” he continued as he started to walk towards the spotlight. “Give him exactly what he wants.”

The big top smelled as it always had, of sawdust and candy floss and cheap meat. Clint cast his eyes around in the darkness for any signs of movement as he approached the spotlight, trying to listen past the pumping of blood in his ears, the pounding of his heart in his chest.

He stood at the edge of the spotlight, waiting.

Clint sensed the movement behind him a second before an arm seized him around the throat, an expert hit to the shoulder making him drop the bow and arrow. Clint grabbed the hands around his neck, intending to flip his opponent over his shoulder and slam him into the ground, when a voice hissed in his ear, “Do you want to save the witch or not?”

Clint stilled. The hesitation was enough time for his attacker to wrap both arms around his neck in a death grip, as the lights of the big top shuddered to life.

Clint squeezed his eyes shut a second too late, the bright lights blinding him. “Agent Romanoff,” his captor called out into the big top. “I know you’re there. Come out before I snap Clint’s neck, would you?”

“Nat,” Clint got out. “Nat…don’t hurt him.”

There was a long pause. Then a form flicked into being right beside the man holding Clint hostage. Natasha Romanoff appeared as if from nowhere, holding a gun right next to Barney Barton’s head.

“Give me a reason not to,” Natasha said cooly, not lowering the gun.

_Because he’s my big brother._ “Because he knows how to save Wanda.”

Natasha relented, but only slightly, moving a couple of paces away, keeping the gun on Barney. “Put it on the ground,” Barney ordered her. “Then kick it over to me. Or you can watch me kill Clint and then go home to watch _her_ die too.”

Clint looked at Natasha, pleading with her. Not for his life. For his brother’s.

Slowly, Natasha lowered her gun and kicked it over Barney. Barney shoved Clint away and picked it up. “Not my weapon of choice. But still effective.”

“What prompted the family reunion?” Clint demanded. “Because as much as I appreciate the theatrics and all, I do have a phone.”

Barney smiled. Even with the added years and scars, Clint couldn’t get past how similar the man in front of him looked to the teenager who had protected him from their abusive father. “I came back for you, little brother. It's more than you ever did for me.”

“What did you do to Wanda?” Clint retorted.

Smiling, Barney reached into his pocket and brought out a small glass vial. “A simple chemical reaction. She’s enhanced, yes? That’s what they’re calling it?”

Barney started tossing the vial up in the air; a casual game of catch. Clint tried not to flinch every time the vial left his brother’s hand. “I slipped it into the air vents during your precious team’s last mission. It wouldn’t have affected anyone else, but I imagine she’s close to death now, yes?”

Clint took a step forward, meaning to snatch the vial out of the air, but Barney was faster. He closed his first around it and took a couple of steps back, pointing the gun at Clint. “Come any closer and I’ll smash it. I’m sure you’ve figured out that this is the antidote.”

Clint froze, not daring to move closer. Barney resumed his game of catch.

“Why?” Clint asked.

Barney finally stopped tossing the vial, glaring at his younger brother. “Why? You really have to ask why?”

“Clint…” Natasha stepped up to her friend’s shoulder, in warning or in comfort he wasn’t sure. He had eyes only for Barney.

“If you have a problem with me, Barney, then it’s with me. Not with Wanda, or Nat, or any of them. They’re not involved.”

“But that’s the thing, Clint. They are. You involved them.” Off Clint’s confused expression, he continued. “You’re still not getting this, are you?” He looked at Natasha. “She does though, doesn’t she? You always liked them smart and pretty, didn’t you Clint?”

Clint glanced at Natasha’s whose face was set. Calculating.

“As we can’t all be Natasha Romanoff,” Clint said. “Why don’t you explain it to me?” _Hurry this up, Clint. Wanda’s dying._

“You were always so keen to run off and find a new family, weren’t you?” Barney spun the tiny vial around in his hand. “First the Swordsman. Then Chisholm. Then your precious spy agency. But even that wasn’t enough, was it Clint? Is it enough now, with your team of freaks? With your perfect little farmhouse?”

The floor seemed to fall out from under Clint’s feet. How the hell did Barney know about the farmhouse? No one knew about the farmhouse, outside of the team.

Slowly, Clint picked up his bow, pointing the arrow at Barney. Barney smirked back at him, waggling the vial at him. “This is very breakable, Clint. I’d hate to drop it.”

Barney knew about the farmhouse. And if he knew about the farmhouse, about Laura, about Lila and Cooper and Nate…he couldn’t leave. Even if that meant-

Barney read the resolve on his brother’s face. It didn’t shake his.

“Oh, that hit home, didn’t it?” Barney shifted the gun’s aim from Clint to Natasha. “Think you could shoot me before I got a shot off?”

Nat’s hand was suddenly on Clint’s back - an anchor to cling to as his world seemed to go into free-fall.

“I had planned to make amends. Did you know that?”

Clint didn’t release the tension on his bow.

“I found the farmhouse. I watched you with them. She’s beautiful, Clint. They all are.”

Natasha’s fingernails dug into his shoulder, warning him not to be rash.

“I wanted to meet them. I wanted to be a part of your life again. To be a family. It was all going to be ok.” Barney clutched the vial in his hands so tightly Clint was sure it was going to shatter. “And then I saw _her_ there.”

“Wanda?” Natasha said.

Barney ignored her, his focus on Clint. “You let some _freak_ meet your new family before I did. You let them spend time with her, left your daughter, your _baby_ alone with her.”

Clint tried to make his mouth work, but couldn’t. “Wanda’s not dangerous,” Natasha said for him. _Thank you, Nat._

“You let _her_ into your life but you cut me out of it.”

“I came after the bus.” The words were barely more than a whisper, but they carried through the big top, taking Barney off guard. “I was too late. But I did come.”

“Don’t lie to me, little brother. You won't get out of this by lying.”

“It’s the truth.” Even as he said the words, Clint didn’t give the tension on his bowstring a millimetre. “I should have come with you. I regret it every day, Barney. And I’m sorry.” _And you know about the farmhouse._

It was as if Barney could read his mind. “Scared, Clint? Are you scared I’ll go after them? That I’ll give away your little secret to whatever evil agencies your team thinks they’re making a difference in fighting?”

_Yes._

“But you’re not scared of having that thing-”

“Her name is Wanda.”

Barney grimaced at him. “These people have clouded those sharp eyes of yours. You can’t see them for what they really are. I wonder what you would do if I made you choose…”

His brother’s eyes, both alien and familiar, bore into Clint’s. “If I told you I was going to pay your farmhouse a little visit when we were done here…Would you do it, Clint?” He flicked the safety off the gun still pointed at Natasha, holding the vial of antidote far above his head. “Would you shoot that arrow through my chest to save them, knowing you’d be killing Romanoff and the freak to do it?”

Clint fumbled for words, for anything to say to avoid that choice. He wouldn’t make it. He wouldn’t. 

“A part of me wants to see you do it,” Barney breathed. “To see which family you value more. But I’ve always been soft on you, Clint. Maybe too soft.” Clint bit back the retort that Barney had been anything but. “So I’m going to give you a third option.”

Natasha’s nails were biting into his shoulder now, passing along a silent message. _Don’t trust him._

“What’s the third option?” Clint asked.

“Come with me,” Barney replied simply. “Leave them behind. All of them. Come back to your original family, the one you abandoned.” For the first time, Barney’s face softened. “We can make it right. We can make it just the two of us. Like it used to be.”

“You give Natasha the antidote for Wanda, and let her leave unharmed,” Clint said. “And you promise not to go near the farmhouse or any member of my team again.”

“If you promise not to run off again, little brother, then yes. That’s the deal.”

Slowly, Clint lowered his bow. “Clint,” Natasha hissed in his ear. “Don’t.”

He didn’t look at her, didn’t dare take his eyes off Barney for a second. He saw the glimmer of hope in Barney’s eyes. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? He and Barney, like it used to be. He had never really stopped missing him.

Clint passed his bow to Natasha and made his way over to his brother, who stepped forward and wrapped Clint in a hug.

It was as if he were ten years old again, being comforted by his older brother after yet another of their father’s violent outbursts. Clint breathed him in, the brother he still missed, although he hadn’t realised how badly until now.

The moment was brief, as Clint suddenly felt himself being flipped around in Barney’s arms, the muzzle of the pistol being placed firmly in one of his shoulders. Clint’s eyes found Natasha’s, holding his own bow taught at Barney.

“Nat, don’t,” Clint warned her, trying to put reassurance into his voice. “Take the antidote back to Wanda. I’ll be ok.”

Barney tossed Natasha the vial. She had to let go of the bow to catch it. Clint sighed in relief as the antidote found its way safety into Natasha’s hands, even as the pistol remained in his shoulder.

“Don’t follow us,” Barney warned the spy.

Clint could see the hesitation in his best friend’s eyes, not wanting to let him go. “I’ll be ok,” he repeated. To Barney he said, “Come on, Barney. Let’s go.”

Barney didn’t move. He was still staring at Natasha. _Just leave it,_ Clint thought desperately. _I gave you want you wanted._

“That’s a pretty nifty trick you pulled earlier,” Barney said. “I’m guessing that’s some fancy Stark technology, yes?”

Natasha was already pulling the thin metal bracelets off her wrists. “Leave Clint behind and you can have it.”

A low laugh echoed in Clint’s ear. “Hand it over or I shoot him in the shoulder.”

Natasha didn’t even hesitate. She threw Barney the bracelets. He caught them with a grin, then started pulling Clint towards the exit.

“What, no goodbyes?” Clint wasn’t sure if he was taunting him or Natasha as his brother tugged him away. He locked eyes with Nat. She gave him the tiniest of nods.

_No, don’t come after me. Go to Wanda._ Instead he just said, “Sorry, Nat. It’s family.”

***

“You don’t have to do that,” Clint said as Barney handcuffed him to a railing in the back of the old RV. It looked as if Barney had been living here for a while, and not well, judging by the unwashed dishes in the sink and the bin overflowing with takeaway containers.

“Just until we get far enough way,” Barney reassured him. 

“You know I know about ten different ways to break out of these, right?”

Barney waved the gun in Clint’s direction. “There are other ways of making sure you don’t run away again.”

Clint tolerated the handcuffs as Barney jumped into the driver’s seat. “Not even going to let me ride shotgun?” Clint tried to keep his tone light, treating the words like playful banter. “Come on - it’ll be like old times.”

The engine creaked to life as Barney drove away from the circus. As the hours passed, Clint contented himself with knowing that Natasha would have made it back to Wanda with the antidote by now, that even at that moment she might be waking up. She'd be ok. She had the team. 

“I really did come after the bus," Clint said. Barney didn’t respond. “I think about it a lot. All the time, Barney. Even after the team, after Laura, after the kids…sometimes I think about what would have happened if I’d just gone with you. If we’d kept being brothers.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Barney sounded as if he were talking more to himself than Clint. “We’re going to be brothers again. It’ll be like it never happened. We can go back to how it was before.”

“My knees say otherwise.”

The quip made the corners of Barney’s mouth twitch. He twisted in the driver’s seat, and Clint caught the look of sympathy and regret on his brother’s face a second before the tires on the RV blew out and the vehicle screeched to a halt.

The windscreen shattered. “Barney!” Clint was out of the handcuffs in an instant, clambering to where his brother was slumped in the driver’s seat, bleeding from the forehead, and not moving. Clint checked his pulse. Still alive.

Clint was so pre-occupied that he didn’t immediately notice the red, white, and blue shield embedded in the seat beside his brother’s head, nor did he notice the gun until Barney pressed it firmly into his side.

“No,” Barney groaned, clicking off his seatbelt and forcing Clint further back into the RV. “I’m not losing you again.”

Yellow light sparked around the top of the RV before the entire roof was ripped off and Clint found himself looking up at Vision as Sam Wilson swooped towards him, apparently with the intent to pull him out of the RV and to safety.

Barney was faster. He wrapped one arm around Clint’s neck and placed the gun against his temple. Sam paused, not daring to get closer. “Let him go, Barney. You have nowhere to run.”

The door to the RV was ripped open and then Natasha was there, gun in hand, Clint’s bow and arrows slung around her back. She had one of them - the one Clint had had ready in the big top - clutched in her hand.

“Nat, you can’t be here. The antidote-”

“Rhodey is flying it back to her right now, Clint. She’s going to be okay.”

Her words made Barney snarl, pulling Clint closer to him as Steve followed Natasha through the RV door, ripping his shield out of the driver’s seat.

"How did you find us?" Barney growled at them.

"Tracking device in the stealth technology," Natasha replied. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist taking it."

“Let him go, Barton,” Steve ordered. “You have nowhere to go.”

“Just leave us alone!” Barney shouted back. “He doesn’t belong with you!”

“Barney,” Clint gasped, not sure his brother realised just hard he was pressing on his windpipe.

“You know I can’t do that,” Steve replied as Clint fought for breath. Clint saw Steve readying his shield and locked eyes with Natasha, pleading with her. Natasha gritted her teeth in frustration but laid a hand on Steve’s arm - a subtle message to back down.

“Barney,” Natasha said softly. “You’re choking him.”

Barney seemed to come to his senses, and Clint gulped air as the pressure on his neck released just enough for him to breathe. Clint darted his eyes to the arrow in Natasha’s hand, then back to her. The tiniest nod told him she understood.

“You won’t hurt your own brother,” Natasha continued, taking a step forward. Clint felt Barney flinch at the movement, taking the safety off the gun.

“He’s not going back with you,” Barney growled.

“Nat,” Steve warned as she took another step closer. Clint tried not to wince as Barney pressed the gun hard against his temple.

“I know you care about him,” Natasha continued. “I know you don’t really want to do this.”

The arm around Clint’s throat was starting to tighten again, as though Barney was pulling his brother as close to him as possible.

“But we care about him too. We’re his family as well.” With a snarl, Barney changed the trajectory of the gun, pointing it straight between Natasha’s eyes.

It was the opportunity Natasha was waiting for. The second the gun was no longer against Clint’s head, she tossed him the arrow as Steve flung himself in front of her, his shield causing the bullet to ricochet into the RV’s walls.

Clint’s fingers found the arrow and plunged it into Barney’s shoulder.

Barney was already shuffling back as the Avengers closed in around him, but the arm around Clint’s throat was growing weak. Clint flung his brother off him, knocking the gun from his hand.

Barney’s breathing was slowing, blood running from the arrow protruding from his shoulder. “You poisoned me?”

Clint’s heart broke at the betrayal in his brother’s voice. “Tranquilliser arrow,” he said softly, taking his brother’s head in his lap. “You’ll be fine when you wake up.”

Barney’s eyes were casting frantically around at the encroaching Avengers. “Where am I going to wake up, Clint?”

“I don’t know,” Clint whispered back, his voice hoarse.

“We’re family.”

“I know.” Clint clasped his brother’s hand. “But they’re family too.”

***

Clint made sure he was still holding the patient’s hand as they finally stirred back to life. The drugs had finally worn off, Clint not having left the bedside since the Avengers had returned to the compound.

“Clint?”

Wanda’s eyes fluttered open. Her skin was still pale, but no longer cold. “I’m here,” Clint assured her, giving her hand a squeeze.

“What happened? Where-”

“You’re at the Avengers compound. You’re home.”

The tension went out of Wanda’s shoulders. “I feel like…” She cursed in Sokovian.

Clint grinned. “You’ll have to teach me that one.” The grin slipped away as he shuffled closer to Wanda’s bedside. “You were poisoned. But we got the antidote in time. You’re going to be fine.”

“Was anyone else-”

“Just you.”

“Just my luck. What?” she added, as Clint looked away.

“It wasn’t luck. The person who poisoned you, he did it to get to me.”

“To you?” The surprise in her voice made Clint lock eyes with her again.

“Wanda.” He cast about for how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I know you miss Pietro. Believe or not, I actually know a little something about losing a brother. The hole it leaves, that never gets filled. But I just want you to know that you always have a home and a family here. And at the farmhouse.”

Wanda wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thank you, Clint.” Her eyes were already starting to close again. “I think…I think I need to rest more.”

“Take all the rest you need.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

Clint squeezed her hand. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> I published this two minutes before midnight so it counts. And now sleep.
> 
> So hey, I have this film and screenwriting podcast? It's called "Kill the Cat" and once a month my co-host and I and break down one of our favourite movies or tv shows and look at why they work, including Harry Potter, The Princess Bride, Brooklyn Nine-Nine and, of course, the MCU.
> 
> You can check it out on [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ypaen3yM5Q&t=1s&ab_channel=KilltheCatPodcast), [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/show/5hCprc9UCBZP4srFrBXKT1?si=ZOqdhMlVQvqV2fG5PxuvOA), or anywhere you listen to podcasts. 
> 
> And hey. You're doing great.


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